CHANGE
I’m moving.This weekend we had a moving sale, or garage sale
as is often called. The difference is that with a moving sale more pieces of
history are released into the hands of others looking for treasures.
For several weeks I have been cleaning out closets, dark
deep holes of space behind more spaces of unused, of once long ago meaningful
belongings, taking hours and hours of sorting and discerning—what to keep and
what to let ago, reminiscing over each picture, each prize and its day of
glory. Emotionally, it was exhausting. I’m thankful for the experiences of
joyfulness, yet very happy the days are done with. I’m happy to move on and
especially thankful for the friends and family who were there for me.
The experience was transforming. Letting go of my gems meant
a letting go of a pastime, a piece of life given away, maybe to be forgotten
forever; a time for tears and a bit of sadness. Nevertheless, as the days passed
I grew accustomed to the process and began to think about how another will
appreciate the goods for less than retail prices. I began to look forward to
the sale and feel joy in the giving. A change was happening. I became excited
waiting for the days of the sale.
When I experience myself going through changes like this, I
can’t help but to relate the time to the development of the young child.
Thinking about the young child is a continuing pastime and passion for me.
The conceived infant is on a pathway of constant change,
continually letting go of his history, of his flesh as he changes and develops
daily, minute by minute into a new being reaching out toward the goal of
someday being an adult. How desperately the growing child, the young teenager,
must need a friend who is there for them.
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